


You don't say no to Ronnie Kray

by AgrippaSpoleto



Category: Legend (2015), Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, He's very very ooc, If you're looking for porn then this is the wrong story for you, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not kidding, Not really betad, Sorry about Reggie, They are all quite out of character, actually there's two of them, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgrippaSpoleto/pseuds/AgrippaSpoleto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London 2015: Teddy Smith works at Kray Inc. and gets a lot more than he bargained for when he gets involved with his boss, Ronnie Kray.<br/>(Modern Crossover with Peaky Blinders.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You don't say no to Ronnie Kray

**Author's Note:**

> AgrippaSpoleto did not write this story. I hacked their account bc I don't have an AO3 account. ;) If you want to write to me directly you may do so over tumblr (captainviolet-dot-tumblr-dot-com).  
> I'm not a native speaker, so be kind. If you find any mistakes you may either keep them or report them to Agrippa.  
> Also I haven't seen the film yet (I CAN ONLY WATCH IT TODAY SO NO RANTING ABOUT THAT OKAY) so of course no one is in character. And probably no big spoilers.  
> And if you haven't guessed that the characters aren't mine then I can't help you.

Teddy keeps checking his wristwatch as he is riding the metro, seeing as he is a little late. He has been carefully colour coordinating his ties and socks this morning, which has been a mistake, seeing as he is fucking behind schedule now. And nobody will even notice, least of all Ronnie. He is supposed to call his boss ‘Mr. Kray’, of course, but there are two Mr. Krays leading Kray Inc., and they even look almost the same, so he calls him ‘Ronnie’ in his head, to keep them apart.  
There is no time to get coffee on the way, he will have to get one at the office. The post has to be sorted before Ronnie arrives. Not that his boss would care much, it is Teddy who needs his little rules to get through the work day. He needs order, and he prides himself on having developed a neat system of keeping it. And his first task will be to sort his boss’ incoming post into three piles: One for Ronnie to answer (i.e. the important letters), one for Teddy to answer (i.e. all the administrative stuff), and one for the wastepaper collection.  
He dashes into the office almost ten minutes late, greeted by a cheerful “hello” from Frances. She is the personal assistant of Reginald Kray, who is his boss’ brother, so he and Frances are equals. They share an office, and her desk is placed opposite his. In his haste to get to work, he only briefly notices that she is not checking her e-mails, as usual in the mornings, but seems entirely distracted by a prettily wrapped present sitting before her.  
“It’s... it’s for me!”, she says, apparently quite in awe, as Teddy begins to open today’s letters with his paperknife.  
He gives her a small smile. “Is it your birthday?”  
“No... It’s... um... It’s from Mr. Kray.”  
Teddy sees a hue of pink appear on her cheeks. He remembers that her Mr. Kray has asked her out only two days ago. “That’s very nice of him. I guess that means he likes you a lot”, he replies, his paperknife sliding through more and more letters.  
Now Frances’ whole face shines bright red. “Yes. Yes, I think it does”, she mumbles, a shy, soft smile on her lips, and finally begins to undo the ribbon tied around the present. She soon unwraps a golden necklace, and decides to wear it right away.  
Teddy has mixed feelings about this new office romance. He hopes for Frances’ sake that Reggie feels serious about her. Teddy has not been working at the Firm, as Kray Inc. is sometimes called, for long now, but he has heard the rumours. Reggie flirts with all his secretaries, and has been going out with most of them, they say, and changes them quite often. Frances is nice, and a sweet girl, and Teddy would not want her to feel heartbroken.  
Reggie Kray arrives only minutes later, gracing Frances with a fond smile and entirely ignoring Teddy, who focuses on sorting the letters. He feels a pang of disappointment in himself as Ronnie Kray walks in sooner than Teddy has finished his early morning task. His boss looks decidedly good-humoured, though, and even compliments Frances’ appearance. Teddy smiles at his letter piles.  
Only minutes later, Teddy almost up to date with the post, his boss pops his head out of his office. “Oh, Teddy, can you come into my office? I need to sort out a few new meetings.”  
Teddy looks up. “At once, sir.”  
“And bring my calendar.”  
“Yes, Mr. Kray.”  
\---  
Teddy sits down and opens the calendar, his pen ready to take notes.  
But Ronnie does not say a word for quite a while. Instead, he clears his throat.  
Teddy looks up to watch his boss fix his tie, still silent. It dawns on him that business lunches are not really the issue of this morning meeting. He is a little unsure of what is expected of him, especially since Ronnie Kray is generally not very good with words, and also very, very unpredictable at times. “Um. Is this about... something else?”, he offers, already closing the calendar.  
His boss blinks, apparently collecting his thoughts. “Not as such.” Ronnie pauses, and eyes his hands that are folded on the table before him. “I wanted to apologise for, uh, for yesterday.”  
Teddy’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “There is no need.”  
Mr. Kray clears his throat again. “My behaviour was out of place.”  
He is quite confused as to why his superior would think that – assuming that by ‘behaviour’ his boss means that he has fucked Teddy in the copy room after hours. Who has most certainly liked it. “I didn’t mind. At all. Actually, it was nice”, he finally replies.  
His mind starts to reel. Why would Ronnie address that matter only now? They’ve done it before, after one of his boss’ boxing matches; Teddy had patched up Ronnie’s wounds and he must have been unable to hide just how attracted he was to the man – and still is for that matter. It had been a pleasant surprise to find that his boss liked boys, and an even more pleasant one, yesterday, to find that it had not just been a one night stand.  
Ronnie seems lost for words for a moment. “Righ’. That is, uh, good.” He pauses. Then: “What I meant is, perhaps we need to, uh, organise, or plan, further meetings after work. If that... if that is alright with you.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, and then folds his hands again. The usually confident, bold man has turned in to a seemingly self-conscious mess.  
It is actually rather cute, which is a word that Teddy has never before associated with Ronald Kray. ‘He wants to continue this... thing we have, whatever it is’, he realises, ‘and that’s what making him nervous.’ He scratches his chin. “That is a very good idea, sir”, he replies, opening the calendar again and attempting to hide his smile. “Did you have any, ah, specific dates in mind?”  
\---  
It is a late Friday afternoon, and Teddy is standing in the sun, welcoming guests, doing his best at small talk, and generally trying to handle several things at once. The Kray twins are hosting a garden party for their most treasured business partners, and it has been his job to organise everything. He has been at Reggie Kray’s house since eight o’clock in the morning, making sure that everything is in order. Now he feels tired, but his work is not done yet, he has to make sure there’s enough wine, enough food, and that the band knows where to plug in the amplifier. Meanwhile, he has to smile and be polite to everyone, whilst also making sure that Ronnie does not offend the guests. Reggie is easier that way, he’s good with people.  
Later that night, he finally finds a moment to breathe. Most guests are gone, and there is still enough champagne for those who are still here. He finds an unoccupied guest room, sits on the bed, closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He has a half an hour tops before he needs to oversee the catering tidying up. For a brief moment he wonders if he should lie down, but he doubts it will help. It will only make him more tired than he already is.  
“Ah, here you are.”  
Teddy looks up; there’s a Kray at the door, smiling and holding a drink, but it’s too dark to tell which one it is. The man is fucking gorgeous, that is all he knows. He stands up, “Mr. Kray. Is something the matter?”  
“Couldn’t find ya.” The man walks in, obviously a little unsteady on his feet.  
It’s probably Ronnie, Teddy thinks, since Reggie would know better than to drink this much when there are business partners around. “Well, here I am.” He steps forward and straightens his shoulders, hoping that his boss is not in a bad mood. Alcohol, anger and Ronnie Kray do not make for a good mix.  
The man lurches forward, the rest of his drink spilling onto Reggie’s expensive carpet, and then he comes to a halt as he holds on to a bedpost. He sways a little, then he drops the glass with a shrug. “C’mere.”  
He steps closer, still trying to gauge the Kray’s mood, but the older man puts a hand on his neck and yanks him close for a kiss, it tastes of wine and is too sloppy and uncoordinated to be enjoyable. ‘Definitely Ronnie’, Teddy thinks, ‘and definitely not the best time for this.’ He knows he has to tread carefully, though, if he wants him to change his mind, especially since Ronnie is drunk. His hands find the other’s suit collar. “Here? At your brother’s house?”, he breathes when the older man breaks away.  
A low grunt is the only answer, followed by another kiss, with tongue this time, and some groping. ‘So much for changing Ronnie’s mind.’ Teddy can’t help but like it this time, groaning a little and sliding his hands under Ronnie’s jacket, to feel those taut muscles through the fabric. Fuck, he should not get distracted now. And he really should not encourage his boss.  
There is a movement in the corner of his eye, and Teddy breaks away from the kiss to turn his head. It’s Reggie standing in the doorway, just staring, and it’s too dark to make out his expression. For a split second, he wonders if he’s been kissing the wrong Kray. The one he assumes is Ronnie doesn’t even notice that someone is watching; his lips are wandering over Teddy’s throat, his fingers are fiddling with the younger man’s tie.  
The situation is slightly unnerving. Teddy turns back to his boss. “Ronnie?”  
The other man doesn’t stop with his kisses; a growling noise is all the answer Teddy gets. His boss has given up on the tie and starts to pull Teddy’s shirt from his trousers instead.  
The man at the door is gone. He swallows. “Ronnie... Let’s close the door, at least.” He sounds almost pleading now.  
The Kray finally stands back a little, breathing heavily and swaying, but nodding. “Righ’. And turn on the bloody light, I wanna see you.”  
There’s a key, so Teddy locks the door, and he pulls the curtains close with a swish.  
The sex is over soon, Ronnie finishes with a deep, guttural grunt and rolls off him, panting. It is only then that Teddy realises they forgot to use a condom. Fuck. He will need to get himself tested. He sincerely doubts that a man with the looks of Ronald Kray has only one lover.  
Once he has calmed down he gets cleaned and dressed, and tries to arrange his hair. Ronnie has fallen asleep on the bed, so Teddy covers him with the duvet, in case anyone walks into the guest room.  
He is late, the catering firm is almost ready to leave, and the band has disappeared already. All guests are gone by now, which is a relief. Reggie is nowhere to be found, either. He finishes the last bit of tidying up with the caterers, and then leaves. At least he can sleep in on the weekend.  
\---  
It is Saturday morning, or noon, rather, when Teddy wakes. He pads into the kitchen, where his flatmate Anita is already having her tea. “There’s a letter for you”, she says, and hands it over, before continuing to read her newspaper. She is dressed, even though as a member of an orchestra she usually works late.  
“Thanks”, Teddy mumbles and puts the letter onto the table. Breakfast comes first. It is only later he notices that the address is written in Ronnie’s handwriting, and that there is no postmark. Why on earth would his boss have a letter brought to his flat, instead of handing it to him at the office? His curiosity takes over and he quickly opens it. Knowing Ronnie, this could be anything, from a dismissal without notice to an invitation to the opera.  
As it turns out, it is the strangest letter that Teddy has ever read. It starts with an unnecessarily detailed description of their latest sex (reading it makes him feel slightly embarrassed) goes on about how Ronnie really just loves beds, and ends with the question if Teddy is free next Friday evening, and to please tell him on Monday if he is.  
He scratches his head. Ronnie must have had the letter delivered this very morning. Perhaps he had still been drunk while writing it. On the other hand, someone like his boss does not need to be drunk to write stuff like that. Perhaps he even gets off on it. Teddy shrugs. He will make sure that he is free this Friday. One does not say no to a Kray.  
\---  
On Monday morning, Teddy is sorting his boss’ post, as usual. He has put his reply to Ronnie’s letter on the pile of those letters designated for him, and awaits his arrival.  
Like most work days, Reggie arrives first, though. And this time he does not ignore Teddy. He gives him a piercing stare, and says “My office, now.”  
‘Fuck’, Teddy thinks, ‘he doesn’t look happy.’  
Frances glances questioningly at her now-boyfriend, then at her colleague. Her golden necklace is gleaming in the morning sun.  
\---  
Teddy sits, feeling quite nervous but trying not to show it. He has an inkling that this will have to do with the scene Reggie has observed on Friday night. Tensely, he folds his hands in his lap, and expectantly eyes his boss’ brother.  
Reggie sits too, and takes a deep breath. “Well. Better make this short. You may consider yourself fired.”  
He blinks. “Er... what?”  
Reggie’s mouth is but a thin line, which is quite a feat, seeing as those lips are usually full and sensual, just like his brother’s. “You heard me.”  
Teddy tries to breathe normally, unable to get his head around the news. “But why?”  
The older man leans forward, eyes dark and dead, and he hisses, “I will not have you sleep your way up in my Firm.”  
He opens his mouth to reply that Reggie himself has been sleeping with plenty of former secretaries who were now working in higher positions. And that he has never even wanted any position than that of a PA. Something tells him that these are bad things to mention right now. Instead, he heads for another option. “That is no legal reason to -”  
“Fuck that”, the Kray interrupts him, “if I say you’re fired, you’re fired.”  
And Teddy knows it is true. He can try to bring charges against Reggie all he wants, the Krays have enough judges under their wing to ensure he will not win this case, even if he is in the right. He presses his lips together to keep his lower lip from trembling. He is fucked. His mind flicks to Ronnie, and he swallows. “Does he know?”  
Reggie stares at him for a moment, and then says quietly, “Go collect your things and get out of this place.”  
Teddy has to take a deep breath before he can even move. He gets up and leaves the office, walking fast because he needs to get away from Reggie’s cold stare. The moment he closes the door, he can feel Frances’ eyes on him though. Does she know? He doesn’t look at her as he returns to his desk, and sits. Slowly, he picks up his watch, his fountain pen, and his phone, and puts them in his briefcase. ‘Maybe Ronnie can sort this out’, he thinks, and stops in his tracks; his brother is not even my direct boss. He’s unsure of what to do now. Reggie has told him to leave, but he wants to wait for Ronnie.  
“Teddy? What is happening? What was that about?”, Frances finally asks.  
He manages to look at her, but wonders what exactly he should tell her.  
Before he can figure out an answer, Ronnie arrives, finally, and Teddy immediately stands, filled with relief. His boss nods at both of them, but pauses as he sees his assistant’s expression. “Are you unwell?”, Ronnie asks, suddenly looking astoundingly self-conscious, “Is it... is it my letter?”  
It is only then that Teddy remembers the strange letter, and he shakes his head. “I, uh, I just got fired, Mr. Kray”, he says, his voice sounding weaker than he wants it to.  
Frances gasps, and Ronnie frowns. “Fired?”, he replies, and pauses. He needs a few seconds to process the unusual information. “But who- by my brother?”  
He feels his throat go sore and nods.  
“But I don’t understand. He can’t do that!”, Frances exclaims.  
Ronnie just frowns more, and Teddy can see in his eyes that he might be confused, but also that his blood is starting to boil. ‘Oh no... I messed this up!’, he thinks. His superior puts his briefcase on Teddy’s desk, his expression determined, and disappears in Reggie’s office without another word.  
Both he and Frances keep staring at the door that his boss has closed behind him. Neither of them can hear a thing; the door might just be soundproof for all they know. After a few seconds, they exchange a look filled with both confusion and dread. Neither Frances nor Teddy has ever seen the twins disagree on something serious, they have never seen them angry at each other. ‘Blood is thicker than water’, that is Ronnie’s motto, and everyone knows that Reggie is the most important person in his world.  
Teddy realises that he is gripping his biro so hard that his nails are digging into his skin. He takes a deep breath and makes a futile attempt to calm down. He darts a glance at Frances, who looks just as lost as he feels. They both are unable to focus on any kind of work.  
His mind tells him Kray vs. Kray means that the odds of being fired by the end of the day are exactly 50%. So he begins to look for any kind of files and documents he might need, should he need to look for a new job soon.  
All of a sudden, they hear indistinctive angry yelling coming from Reggie’s office, and Teddy drops his files. They both flinch, and he can feel his stomach drop. The brothers are definitely fighting now. Over him. He swallows. The thought of Ronnie standing up for him is undeniably sexy, and he’d rather like to dwell on that thought, if it were not mixed with concern.  
There are other sounds coming from the office now, and Frances yelps as they can hear punches. There is definitely a fight going on in there. She covers her mouth with a hand, and all that Teddy is able to think is, ‘I fucked up real bad this time.’ Both Krays are going to be in a dreadful mood after this, no matter how this ends.  
Slowly, Frances stands, her hand falls limply to her side. Teddy’s eyes dart from her slender form to the office door. There are more muffled sounds coming from it. He can hear Frances take a slow, deep breath. Then something happens that makes him see her in an entirely new light: With a few quick steps she walks to the office door, she opens it, and yells, “REGINALD KRAY, YOU STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!”  
\---  
Ronnie is sat on the couch, the lower part of his face and his shirt still covered with blood. He does not seem to notice anything and he does not speak, he just stares into thin air, still obviously angry. It looks like his nose has stopped bleeding, at least.  
Teddy does not speak, either, but only because he has no idea what to say. His head is filled with questions, but he knows he cannot ask any of them, not now. In the end, he decides to get the first aid kit. Maybe Ronnie will let him tend to his nose, and perhaps there are even more wounds. He remembers where the kit is from the first time he has been at his boss’ place. 

The situation had been a similar one, although back then, Ronnie had been ecstatic after winning a fistfight against one of the Richardsons. Reggie had sent him, Teddy, after his brother: “You got to see if he needs patching up”, he had said, “He won’t do it himself. He’ll just get drunk, maybe break some of the furniture, and fall asleep on the couch. If we’re lucky.”  
“Yes sir”, Teddy had replied, only wondering for a short time what Reggie had meant with that last sentence, and had followed his boss inside.  
“I’ll disinfect your wounds, sir”, he had announced to Ronnie, who was already filling his first glass of whiskey, “Where’s your iodine?”  
His boss had grumbled, “Bathroom”, and had vaguely pointed into a direction with the bottle.  
When Teddy had returned after a while, the older man had been sitting on his couch and drinking his whiskey. “’S a good un’, that one”, he had said with a deep voice, eyes fixed on the glass, and Teddy had not been sure if he had been talking to anyone in particular.  
Teddy had wetted a cotton pad with iodine, and it had almost looked like blood. He had begun to dab it at some of the cuts in his boss’ face. “Any wounds on your torso?” He had definitely been hoping for a yes, even if it meant that the other was hurt more than it was visible now.  
Ronnie had only grunted something that could have been both, a positive or a negative answer, it had been impossible to tell.  
He had decided to take the chance. “I need you to take your shirt off, sir.”  
“Cheeky”, his boss had mumbled, but eventually, he had obliged.  
And Teddy had done his best not to drivel. As it had turned out, though, his best had not been good enough.

As he returns to the living room, Ronnie still just sits there, staring at the wall before him.  
Teddy shivers; it is eerie, even if the sun is shining outside. Then he clears his throat. “Mr. Kray? I’ll patch you up, sir. If you don’t mind, sir.”  
His boss finally moves, he turns his head to look at his assistant, and looks as if he just woke from a dream. “C’mere, then.”  
He relaxes a little at the sound of that voice, it sounds calmer than expected. No angry outburst; that is something. He sits next to the man and starts to wipe his blood-smeared face, and to disinfect a cut on his lip. The other doesn’t move any more, just lets everything happen. For a second, Teddy wonders if Frances is doing the same to Reggie at this very moment. He lets his fingers run over some of the bigger blood stains on Ron’s shirt. “You will need to soak the shirt in cold water, sir, and as soon as possible. To make sure the blood gets out.”  
His superior looks down at the stains as if he has never seen them before. Then he looks back up to Teddy. And he smiles. “As soon as possible? Are you on a mission, little ‘un?”  
He blinks, slightly taken by surprise. “Um. Not this time, sir.”  
“Ah, go on, then.” Ronnie just chuckles and leans back.  
Teddy unbuttons the shirt, relieved that the mood is lighter now, but he frowns as soon as he sees more bruises and cuts. This looks decidedly worse than last time he had to do this. He feels Ronnie’s gaze on him as he presses the soaked cotton to the wounds.  
“Did you get my letter?”, the older man suddenly asks.  
He looks up at his boss. Ronnie does not smile anymore. “I did, yes.” He wonders if his superior expects gratitude. “And, um, I am free this Friday, by the way.”  
His boss just nods, still looking serious. “I’ll take you out. To a nice place”, is the mysterious answer. Ronnie’s hand runs over Teddy’s suit collar, his eyes following his fingers. “A fancy place. I’ll have to get you suited up, little ‘un.”  
“I have suits at home, sir, one of those will surely be appropriate for the occasion.”  
Ronnie shakes his head. “I’ll get you a proper one. Bespoke and all. I insist!” He looks set on that matter.  
Teddy is slightly confused as to why this detail is so important to his boss. Will they have to impress someone? “Is it for a job, sir?”  
The other man’s face suddenly turns into an angry grimace, and Teddy feels his stomach drop. “Of bloody course not!”, his boss hisses. His glare softens only after a few seconds. “And do call me Ronnie, the ‘sir’ sounds fucking weird.”  
It feels almost like a promotion, and he grins. “Yes s- Ronnie. And thank you.”  
His boss pulls him onto his lap and answers with a kiss, deep and demanding. It faintly tastes of blood, and leaves him slightly breathless. Then Ronnie fumbles for his phone in his pocket, dials a number and waits for someone to answer his call.  
Teddy hasn’t seen his boss topless often, and he lets his finger wander over the tattoos on the broad chest.  
“Anderson & Sheppard? This is Mr. Kray speaking. I’d like to book an appointment for today if that is possible.”  
Teddy can feel the other’s hand rest on the small of his back as he follows the contours of the black crow.  
“It’s not for me, no. It’s my boyfriend, he needs a new suit.”  
Teddy’s finger stops moving, and he eyes his boss’ face for a quick second. Ronnie looks focused on his telephone call, and has not noticed his assistant pausing. Teddy studies the Union Jack on the other’s chest, thinking. Does that mean he has been upgraded from casual fuck to boyfriend? When did this happen, and why? God only knows how Ronnie’s mind works. The man has his own understanding of the world. And, somehow, he has decided that they are dating now. Teddy smiles a little, even though he is entirely aware of how little he has had to say in this. He knows it is Ronnie who makes the rules, but so far, he likes them.  
\---  
He wakes, feeling strangely well rested. Then the icy fingers of shock grip his neck: Should he not be at work? He quickly sits, already fumbling for his clothes, but this is not his bed, not his room, and his clothes are scattered all over the floor... Then he pauses, and remembers. He is still in Ronnie’s bed, at Ronnie’s home. His boss is nowhere to be seen, so he digs his way out of the soft duvet to find the bathroom.  
Teddy is not sure what is expected of him. Is he still working at the Firm, still Ronnie’s assistant? It is only one of those questions he has been too careful to ask him yesterday. Perhaps Ronnie not waking him in time had been his way of telling him that he was indeed fired? He pulls a shirt over his head and tries to get his hair to look acceptable. He wonders if his boss, or possibly his former boss, is still somewhere in the house.  
As it turns out, he is indeed. Just as Teddy starts to look for his trousers, Ronnie enters the bedroom, with a tray and a grin, wearing a dark blue bathrobe. “Get back in there! We’re having breakfast in bed”, he announces.  
He does as he is told, one does not say no to a Kray, and he cannot remember ever having someone bring him breakfast to bed. He would even call it an endearing act, were it not Ronald Kray who carries the tray.  
“Unless... unless you need to be somewhere.”  
Teddy looks up; Ronnie has something he interprets as a hesitant expression on his face. He has never seen that one before. He shakes his head, “I am either still your assistant, and then it’s my job to do what you tell me; or I am not working for the Firm anymore, in which case, no, I do not need to be anywhere.”  
The other tilts his head, his expression more serious again, but not angry, and then puts the breakfast tray on the nightstand. “How about both?”  
With a slightly bewildered look, he asks, “I am both fired and not fired?”  
Ronnie climbs into bed, and sit with a sigh. “You are still my assistant, but I am not part of Kray Inc. anymore, so you, too, are not working for them. I’ll make sure you get paid, though.”  
“You are leaving the Firm?”  
The other man only nods, but does not explain any further.  
Well, that clears things up, at least some of them. Teddy is pretty sure that his boss is not going to set up an employment contract, but at least he knows there will be money. He wants to ask more questions, but he has a feeling that talking about Reggie and what has happened before the fistfight will not lighten Ronnie’s mood. So he eats, and lets the older man ramble on about why scrambled eggs are better than poached eggs, and that Teddy definitely needs new shoes to go with his new suit. Of course it is pointless to try and convince Ronnie that no, he does not need a pair of new shoes, seeing as he has plenty of those at home.  
“You should move in, you know”, Ronnie suddenly says, quietly eating his toast. As if that is the most casual thing to talk about.  
Teddy freezes. “M-move in?” It feels like he is getting the next upgrade in this relationship, but worryingly soon after the last one. For a brief, absurd moment, he wonders if Ronnie will ask for his hand right after breakfast. But his boss is not the asking kind. He would, instead, just inform him that he has planned a wedding for them. The thought lets Teddy shiver.  
Ronnie seems to think for a moment. “Or perhaps we should wait until I find a good premise. I got my eye on a place in Camden, but I’m not sure I’ll get it. Too many Italians.”  
He eyes his boss’ silhouette as he keeps eating. “You are going to open another business?”  
“Aye. I’ll meet Hepburn later today, to discuss how I can get out of Kray Inc. the fastest. And with some money left.” Mr. Hepburn is the Kray’s lawyer.  
He breathes very carefully. Ronnie is talking about their future, his future. “What kind of business are we talking about?”  
Ronnie smiles at him. “It’s better if you don’t know, little ‘un. Not yet, anyway.”  
Teddy’s next question is silenced with a kiss, the older man’s sudden movement almost knocking over the tea pot. A wet tongue runs over his lips, and Teddy groans with sudden need. “Let’s get breakfast off that bed, Ron”, he breathes.  
His superior looks down at the tray as if he has entirely forgotten about it. “Mh. Yes.”, is his only answer, and he quickly puts their breakfast on the floor, and knocking over both their cups by the sound of it. But Ronnie is not one to care for such details, and only seconds later that wicked tongue is back in Teddy’s mouth, sending tiny shivers down his back. Impatient fingers pull his shirt over his head; hot breath feathers his neck, and with a sudden move, Ronnie pushes him into the mattress, already breathing hard.  
With a groan, he mumbles, “Let me suck you off, Ronnie...”  
But the other man ignores him, softly biting his shoulder, and Teddy can feel how he tenses.  
Ronnie stops, his dark eyes fixed on him. “What is it?”  
“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head. “Come here.” He pulls the other close for another kiss.  
But Ronnie is not distracted so easily. “What is it?”, he grumbles.  
This time he sounds more serious, and Teddy knows better than to lie again. “It’s just... I’m still sore from last time.” He swallows, knowing that this is not something that will make his boss stop.  
Ronnie frowns. “Sore? You mean... you’re hurting?”  
“Just a little.” He swallows. “It’s nothing, really, Ron.”  
But Ronnie moves behind him to spoon him, an arm firm around his waist. “I’m not going to hurt you”, he mumbles.  
Teddy relaxes, although he is still a tad disappointed that his boss has stopped so abruptly. “There’s other ways, you know.”  
“I’m not going to hurt you”, the older man only replies, and then a few seconds later, softly, “Does it always hurt?”  
“No, Ronnie.” He runs his fingertips over the others’ muscular arm, avoiding touching some of the worst bruises. “Just when it’s too often.”  
The words are mumbled so quietly, it’s difficult to understand them, “Didn’t know that.”  
“None of your boys ever told you?” Teddy gently runs his fingers over Ronnie’s.  
The other man grunts. “Never had any of them more than once.”  
“Were they all so disappointing?” Teddy turns his head, smiling, to face his boyfriend. But Ronnie looks so earnest that Teddy wonders if he has gone too far. “I mean, with you being such a hunk, they’d sure want more.”  
He can feel Ronnie’s low chuckle more than he hears it. “Flatterer!” A soft kiss is placed on his shoulder blade. “No, they were rent boys, mostly. It was supposed to stay a secret.”  
“You didn’t want the public to know you like boys?”  
“I didn’t want Reg to know”, Ronnie corrects him. “He always said it was something bad, something unnatural. And I didn’t wanna be bad and unnatural. So I tried to stop. But I couldn’t. I fucking loved it. And it all went well, at least for a while... And then you came along. You with your precision and your ‘Yes sirs’ and your compliance.”  
Teddy stays silent. He has never heard Ronnie talk this much, and never, ever about himself. His heart goes out to him; it is obvious that Ronnie has never been able to be himself. But Teddy knows he must not appear sympathetic. There is a chance his boss will pull the rug at any given moment – he doesn’t know just yet how much Ronnie trusts him. He turns again to run his finger over the other’s cut lip, but he does not speak.  
“And then Reg found out, somehow. He must’ve seen us.” The man pauses for a moment, eyes dark, as usual. “He said the most horrible things about me, you know. And about you. That you seduced me; that I would not be like this without you. Fucking ridiculous.”  
Ronnie moves his head, and Teddy can feel his hot breath on his shoulder. He wonders if he should say something – what does his boss expect of him?  
But Ronnie makes it easy for him; he places a quick kiss on his shoulder, and then gets up. “I need to get ready to meet Hepburn.” The broad shouldered man disappears into the bathroom without another word.  
Meanwhile, Teddy gets dressed again and clears up their breakfast. When he returns to the bedroom, Ronnie is already buttoning his shirt.  
“There’s a spare key in the chest of drawers in the parlour. Will you be around this evening?”  
“Um. Actually, I said I’d meet some friends for a drink...” Teddy’s voice falters.  
But Ron just grunts, and starts to choose a tie.  
For a brief moment, he wonders if he should ask him to come along, but his boss is unpredictable at best and a nightmare at worst when alcohol is involved. “Do you need me to do anything in particular for you today?” After all, he is supposed to be working now.  
“Not yet”, Ronnie replies as he knots his tie, “But I will need you tomorrow, to help me with all that lawyery stuff.”  
“Yes si- uh- Yes. Is nine too early?” Teddy helps his boss into his jacket.  
“Nine’s perfect.”  
\---  
Only an hour later, Teddy is on his way back home. It feels a little strange to arrive in the precinct of normality, but also relieving. He realises that he has felt trapped at Ronnie’s place, never completely at ease. So much has changed since yesterday morning, and he is not sure if it is for the better.  
How is he going to explain any of this to Anita – or to anyone, for that matter? He runs a hand over his face. It has felt strange enough when they had been at the tailor’s yesterday. It was Teddy who had got measured, but it had been obvious that it was Ronnie who made the decisions. The employees had been a little confused (Ronnie had not told them which Kray he was, and no one had dared asking) and yet trying not to show it, and to comply with his every wish.  
It feels good to come back to his flat, to be well and truly home.  
“Oh, hi! You’re home early”, Anita welcomes him as he enters the kitchen, and puts away the sheets of music she has been studying.  
“Yeah... I kinda got fired.” He slumps on a chair.  
“You’re not serious! They threw you out? But why?”  
He nods, and thinks for a moment. “Basically, it’s because I slept with my boss.”  
Her eyes widen. “Woah! The hot one?”  
“They both are”, he shrugs. “But only one of them is, or was, technically my direct boss. Well, is again, as he’s planning to open another business, and I’m going to be his PA, or whatever. I haven’t been told much so far.”  
Anita leans forward, her short brown hair partly concealing her face. “How can you be so calm about this? And didn’t you say he’s a little... off-kilter?”  
“Oh, he is.” He decides to leave it at that. Ronnie is far more than a little off-kilter, but he is not in the mood to explain any further, especially since he himself has no idea whether to panic or not to panic. He wonders if he should mention that he might move out soon, but decides not to. Maybe he can talk Ronnie out of it.  
Anita hesitates. In the end she says, “Just make sure you stay safe.” Teddy can sense that she wants to ask more questions, but is glad when she finally picks up her sheet music and goes back to reading it.  
\---  
About two weeks later, Ronnie has moved in to his new place in Camden Town. He has stayed surprisingly calm when Teddy has announced that moving together was a little too early for him. Ronnie lives atop a bakery, which he uses as a cover to sell drugs. He has employed a few new people, but he does not trust them yet. Which means that most work is done by Ronnie himself, since he does not want Teddy to get involved with too many of the illegal deals.  
\---  
One evening, after dinner, they are both sitting on Ron’s new, expensive couch, drinking some of Ron’s old, expensive whiskey, and watching one of Britain’s less talented comedians make a fool of himself on the television. The older man is quiet, as usual, but Teddy does not mind. It is a comfortable, relaxed silence.  
“Seen anything unusual today?”, Ronnie asks in his deep, mumbling voice, an unlit cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.  
Teddy looks up from his glass, and thinks for a moment. “Not that I can remember.”  
There is a pause, until his boyfriend – he is slowly getting used to calling him that – continues, “There’s three other families in this area, see.”  
Teddy knows that Ronnie means their competition, other mafia families.  
“The Italians, the Sabinis, they’re the biggest ones. Then there’s the Irish, the O’Connors, and the Brummies, the Shelbys. Call themselves the Peaky Blinders. Guess they’ll know that I’m here by now, so we can expect some sort of reaction.”  
Teddy tilts his head, ignoring an outburst of laughter coming from the television. “You mean a violent one?”  
“Doubt it.” Ronnie rolls his big shoulders. “They won’t want to take the risk. Reggie might still stand up for me. I think they will come over instead, in person, to assess the situation themselves. They’ll wanna talk to me.” His face is serious; he never likes having to mention his brother.  
It is time to get into action, if he wants to keep the evening pleasant. Teddy slips off a shoe, and runs his toes under Ronnie’s trousers. “And how will you welcome them?”  
His plan is working: his boyfriend’s face relaxes a little, and he puts away the cigar. “Nicely, of course. I’m looking for a collaboration, see. Join forces with some of them, maybe all.”  
He edges a little closer, and lets his toes wander over the other’s ankles. “Join forces, eh? Gonna join forces with me, too, tonight?”  
Now he definitely has Ronnie’s attention. “Look at you, tiger”, he chuckles. “Course I will. Repeatedly.”  
\---  
When he walks into the bakery one morning, a young boy of about fifteen years is already waiting in front of the door, chewing gum and waiting for the shop to open. Teddy lets him in, but the boy asks for Mr. Kray instead of buns. Teddy tells him that his boss is not in yet, but that he will take a message, upon which the boy hesitates, and then he hands him a card.  
‘With regards, D. Sabini’, it reads. Teddy faintly remembers that this is the name of one of the other families. He turns the card over, but it says nothing else.  
“What the fuck does that mean?”, he asks the stranger.  
Chew chew chew. “Mr. Sabini ‘s sending me as a present.”  
“He is sending you?” Teddy wonders if this is a trap, if the card is poisoned, or if the boy is carrying a bomb. He remembers Ronnie saying something about the families wanting to assess the situation. Perhaps the boy’s a spy. “To, um, work for him?”  
More chewing. “Ye’. Until midnight only, mind ya. I go’ ovver customers.”  
Only then it dawns on Teddy that Mr. Sabini is sending Ronnie a rent boy. Word must have travelled fast in the crime world. “Mr. Kray is not interested in that sort of presents”, he quickly replies, thrusting the card back into the other’s small hands.  
The young man stops chewing, and looks slightly confused. “Mr. Sabini said ‘e was. ‘E said ‘e’s paying for everyfing.”  
Teddy knows that being sent back will most likely get the boy into trouble with the Italians, but he prefers Ronnie not knowing about the ‘present’ from Mr. Sabini. He might take it in a bad way.  
But, of course, his boss chooses this moment to start his work day. Teddy can feel his heart sink the very second Ronnie steps into the room. And, of course, the older man does not walk straight into the back office, because the rent boy pipes up, “Are you Mr. Kray?”  
Ronnie stops in his tracks, turns, and grumbles something that might be understood as a positive reply. He is never very talkative in the morning.  
The boy seems to shrink under the dark eyes of the burly man. He probably regrets having addressed him.  
Teddy decides to get straight to the point. Better get it over with soon. “Mr. Sabini is sending you a rent boy.”  
Ronnie is silent for a few very, very long seconds. His eyes are dark and dead, and flicker from the boy to Teddy and back, his mouth a thin line. Then he steps in front of the stranger, a wall of silent anger, his glance icy. “You go back now, back to them. And you tell Mr. Sabini”, he says very quietly, controlling his breathing with some difficulty, “you tell him that I am not a fucking paedophile.”  
After a split of a second, the boy nods, turns on his heel, and disappears without another word.  
Teddy breathes a very small sigh of relief. The boy is out of danger, at least from Ronnie.  
And after a long and intense shower with Teddy, Ronnie is calm enough for his scheduled meeting with one of his clients.  
\---  
Only fifteen minutes after Ronnie has left, another customer is asking for Mr. Kray. Seeing as the boss is out, Teddy is called downstairs by the vendor, hair still wet.  
Another boy is waiting in the bakery, and hands him a card; at least he looks off age. He is also better dressed than the first boy.  
“Who sends you?”, Teddy asks without looking at the card. It must be either the Irish or the Brummies.  
“Ms. O’Connor, sir.” The boy runs a hand through his dark curls.  
“I’ll let Mr. Kray know she sent her regards. But you better leave. He prefers other kinds of presents. Whiskey’s always welcome, for example. And tell her to come over in person, next time.” He prays that the Irishman will listen and go away in time; he does not have the nerve for another one of Ronnie’s meltdowns.  
There is a moment of hesitation. “Aye. I’ll tell her.”  
\---  
Just as Teddy sits down in the back office to go through today’s mail, he is called into the bakery again.  
“Who is it this time?”, he sighs.  
“Another young man, asking for Mr. Kray”, the vendor replies with a shrug.  
He hisses. “I don’t fucking believe it! Don’t these people have any kind of creativity?”  
Teddy gets up, leaves the office, and glances at the new visitor. He is even older than the last one, wearing a dusty coat and a newsboy hat. “Let me guess. The Shelbys send you?”  
The man gives him half a smile. “You could say that.”  
“Well, Mr. Kray’s not in, and he is not interested in rent boys.”  
The young man adjusts his hat. “The fuck does that have to do with me?”  
Teddy blinks. Shit. “You are- Um. I mean. How can I help you?”  
“The name’s Shelby. Tommy Shelby. Perhaps you could tell Mr. Kray to call me.” He hands Teddy a card. “I’d like to meet him.”  
\---  
Teddy has just missed the bus home, so he decides to walk instead. It is not that cold yet, and there is no need to hurry. Anita is going to cook this time, it is her night off. So he lights a cigarette and starts walking, sometimes casting a quick glance over his shoulder, to see if someone follows him.  
He does not like the situation at work. Ronnie just does not tell him enough, and he trusts the Shelbys far too much, in Teddy’s opinion. Just this morning, he could have sworn that he has seen some Peaky Blinders watching his flat. They most likely have their eye on the bakery as well. They might even follow him home this very moment. It is obvious that Tommy Shelby does not trust him and Ronnie.  
Teddy just wishes that Ronnie saw that, too. It has never been more obvious to him that the Krays only work as a team. Reggie is the front, Ronnie the muscle. Remove one, and all falls apart. He himself is a poor replacement for Reggie, especially since Ronnie does not want him to get involved in any of the dangerous stuff, and tells him next to nothing about the plans he makes with the Shelbys.  
Fifteen minutes later, Teddy arrives at the entrance of his block of flats. A last glance over his shoulder, and there he is again: a newsboy hat, a tweet suit, and gone the very moment he notices Teddy’s eyes on him.  
He locks the door from the inside, once he is home.  
“Ah, here you are! I’ve made a cottage pie. It’ll still need ten, fifteen minutes though”, his flatmate’s voice welcomes him from the kitchen.  
“You’re a goddess, Anita!” He suddenly starts to wonder if she is danger, because she lives here, too. Should he warn her? Will she believe him?  
“True, that”, she cheerfully replies through the clattering of dish-washing.  
He pulls off his shoes and his coat, then walks into the kitchen. “Oh, and I got news. My boss told me we’re opening a club in about a month’s time, I think it was.”  
Anita stops and half turns to him, a pan covered in bubbles still in her hand, her face strangely serious. “A club? In a month? What’s it called?”  
Teddy shrugs. “Esmeralda’s something. I forgot.”  
“Esmeralda’s Barn?”  
He nods and sits on a kitchen chair, slightly confused. “You’ve heard of it?”  
She puts the pan back into the sink, looks at him, almost afraid, and whispers, “You stay away from Tommy Shelby!”  
Teddy hesitates. “How do you know him?”  
“Promise me!”  
There is an urgency in her voice and an intensity in her stare that make him nod immediately, even though he knows he will not be able to do what she is asking of him. He cannot tell her that, though.  
“He is a dangerous man”, she adds after a pause, and then turns back to the sink, obviously intending to end the conversation.  
But he wants to know more. “What do you have to do with a man like that?”  
She just furiously scrubs the already clean pan and does not answer.  
“Please, Anita! Why can’t you tell me?”  
He can hear her take a deep breath, and then she turns back to him and unceremoniously wipes her hands on her jeans. “I can’t tell you much. But it was Tommy Shelby who had my husband killed. Fred was a member of the Peaky Blinders, once, see. But he wanted out, so Tommy had him shot. It is very likely that he’s after me, too, because I always begged Fred to leave the gang. I even had plans to help Fred get away from them. And Tommy knows.”  
Teddy stands, just staring. “Jesus, Anita!”  
Her face is set. “So please, please, make sure you stay away from him.”  
He shakes his head, trying to find the words. “No... I mean... I’ve seen Peaky Blinders in front of our block, just when I came home. I thought they were watching me, but what if they’re after you instead?”  
“Oh my god...”, her voice is suddenly weak. A second later she darts away, into her bedroom.  
Teddy is right on her heels. “We need to get you out of here.”  
“I’m working on that.” She pulls a sports bag from under her bed. As she opens it, Teddy can see it is already filled with clothes. Anita has been prepared for this. She quickly stuffs some money and her passport into the bag; then she opens her window and leans out to survey the area. “Looks okay.”  
“You’re not going out the window, are you?” Teddy puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her from climbing out.  
She looks at him, and he is surprised at just how calm she appears to be. “Can’t use the front door, can I? They’ll keep watch.” She pulls the bag over her shoulder.  
“Wait... where will you go?”  
Her brown eyes turn soft for a moment. “I can’t tell you, I’m sorry, Teddy. Tommy has his ways of making people tell him what he wants to know. But I have friends. There is no need to worry.” His former flatmate climbs out of her bedroom window and clings to the drain pipe.  
“But how can I contact you?”  
“You can’t”, she replies, “It’s just not safe.” Then she hesitates. “I’ll be at the Docklands tomorrow night. West India Quay, near St. Peter’s Barge. Wait there.” And with that, she is already climbing down the pipe.  
“I’ll be there”, Teddy says, but he is not sure she can even hear him anymore. Only seconds later, he sees her quickly walk down a dimly lit back street, pulling a hat over her ears.  
He hears the kitchen clock chime. The cottage pie is ready.  
Teddy slowly closes the window. There is a feeling of dread lurking within his throat. What if the Peaky Blinders chose this very evening to raid the flat on their search for Anita? He is not safe here, not anymore. His hands are shaking a little as he pulls out his mobile phone to dial Ronnie’s number.  
\---  
Later that night, Teddy lies awake in the dark and stares at the ceiling. Next to him, Ronnie is lying on his back and snoring loudly, but that is not what keeps Teddy from falling asleep. The Peaky Blinders know that he has been living with Anita for the past few months. He is sure that they will question him. They want to find her, and he has a sinking feeling that he is not important enough to be left alone. They might leave Ronnie alone, were he in Teddy’s shoes, but not him.  
He swallows. He might have to get away from all this. Away from Tommy Shelby, which means away from Ronnie Kray, and away from London. Perhaps even away from England. He might not even be able to see his parents again, seeing as it might endanger them. Intense despair fills him and he has to breathe very slowly to stop himself from panicking.  
Or is it safe enough to be in Ronnie’s shadow? Will the Peaky Blinders stay away from him? He sighs and runs his hand over his forehead. Why must everything be so complicated?  
His whole life has been spiralling downwards, ever since Reggie Kray fired him. Ever since Ronnie Kray has become so very obsessed with him. There is a nagging feeling that things will only get worse if he does not act now. But he has no idea how to act.  
He turns to his side to look at Ronnie, sleeping peacefully. Should he tell him what happened at the flat? Does the older man know that Tommy Shelby is looking for Anita? Maybe he does, and knows how to get out of this hellhole of a situation. Or maybe he will not believe a word Teddy says.  
He feels a little guilty that he has not told his boyfriend the truth about his sudden visit. He has not told him a word, has only asked if he can come over. And Ronnie had been in a very good mood the entire evening, obviously happy about Teddy’s ‘spontaneous’ visit.  
After a few more minutes of indecision, he finally determines that his only way forward is to meet Anita tomorrow night. He will discuss things with her, perhaps she knows a solution to all this. She will be able to assess the situation, and the degree of danger he is in. She knows the Shelbys, after all. And if she cannot help him, he will ask Ronnie. They might be able to get out of this together.  
Teddy has mixed feelings when he thinks about a future with someone as unstable as Ronnie, but it is definitely better than a future that involves being tortured by some other crazy gangster. If he thinks about their relationship, it even seems that Ronnie has given him a bit more freedom than he did at the start. So maybe, one day, he might even treat him as an equal. He tells himself that he should insist on getting involved more. He needs to know the business.  
Having a plan, even if it is a very crude one, calms him down. He even edges closer to the other man and wraps an arm around him. ‘It’s only for warmth’, he tells himself, and presses his face into Ronnie’s strong arm.  
\---  
Teddy curses under his breath. It is getting fucking late, and fucking cold. Anita did not tell him an exact time, or an exact place. He has been waiting here since 5pm, nervously spying for her in the crowds of businessmen and tourists. Now there are fewer people around, and the stone and glass buildings seem cold and unwelcoming. Only a few windows are still lit. ‘Some poor bugger who has to work late’, Teddy thinks, ‘Or someone having an office affair.’ He cannot help but grin.  
Ronnie has been unusually calm in the afternoon, probably because he has told him he is out with friends. He hopes he can go home soon, to make sure he will not get angry.  
He turns to look at the barges in the water. What if Anita is not waiting here, but at the other side of the dock? He squints into the dark, but cannot see enough. He curses again and fumbles in his pockets for a smoke. His feet are getting cold. Laughter erupts from a nearby restaurant, and he considers just going in and having a drink.  
Anita’s cheerful voice wakes him from his daydream. ‘Hi!’  
He whisks around. ‘There you are!’  
She is wearing unusually bulky and dark clothes, and grins widely. ‘Come along then!’ She turns and leads him through a few smaller streets, around several corners. ‘Did you see any Blinders on your way here?’  
Teddy has to jog to keep up with her. ‘Not that I noticed.’  
‘Good.’ They arrive at a boring looking warehouse; Anita produces a key and they enter. ‘We should be safe in here. It’s Irish territory; the Blinders should stay well away.’  
‘Are you ok?’  
‘Yes, I told you, I have friends, and I can look after myself. I should be fine.’ She pulls off her beanie and looks at him. ‘Are you ok?’  
Teddy swallows and hesitates. Where should he even start? ‘So far, I am.’  
They can hear the door click shut and both turn sharp on their heels.  
\---  
Why is there so much pain? It feels like someone is pulling his guts out hand over hand an inch at a time, while something squeezes his heart until it bursts. Ronnie looks down on himself, down at his chest and stomach, and feels over it with his free hand. No wound, no blood. Nothing. He furrows his brow in confusion. He can hear Tommy say something, but it sounds distant, as if the other man is far away, and speaking through fog. It doesn’t matter. Ronnie grunts a reply that could mean anything, but he doesn’t move. He keeps standing, keeps staring at the bodies in front of them. Where did all this pain come from? Why can’t it just end? After a few seconds – or minutes? It seems, somehow, hard to tell – he realises that he’s still holding the gun in his hand, fingers clamped around the grip. He opens his hand, and just lets the weapon fall to the floor without even looking at it. The clanking noise it makes when it hits the ground of the warehouse sounds cold.  
He walks closer, overcome by a sudden need to look at Teddy, but his legs seem to be made out of cement. One step, two steps. Something’s wrong. No, he corrects himself, everything’s wrong. Fuck’s sake – even his knees are shaking now. He manages a few more steps towards the two bodies before his legs give in and he has to kneel. Teddy lies only an arm’s length away from him, and yet it feels as if he’s miles away. Ronnie can only see the back of what used to be his head, now a bloody mess. Is his face even going to be recognisable? He reaches out to turn the younger man around.  
But the moment he touches Teddy’s shoulder, there is a lump of cold, icy horror in his throat. Death has never bothered him before; at least not much... It costs him quite an effort to keep his hand in place. As the dead body slumps on its back, Ronnie quickly lets go of its shoulder. The dead eyes stare up at the ceiling.  
He should close Teddy’s eyes but that would require touching the body again, and he is not sure if he can do that without throwing up. In fact, the cold fingers of dread around his heart seem to increase their grip with each second. And the pain in his guts... it’s still there. Ronnie lets out a long groan, and it doesn’t sounds like a man, but like a savage beast being goaded to death with knives and spears.  
He can feel how he is going to be sick any minute now, so he slowly gets up and turns to walk outside. Tommy and his men seem to have disappeared. He leans against one of the stony, cold looking buildings and throws up on the neat, clean streets. He feels about as bad as he ever has.  
Some tiny part of his brain reminds him he should do something about the bodies but he knows that he doesn’t have the guts to do it. Not now. Maybe the Peaky Blinders will take care of things. Ada Shelby has been their mission, anyway. He runs a hand through his hair. A drink and some sleep, and he will feel better.  
\---  
But of course, sleep won’t come. Neither does the drink numb his pain. Not even several glasses of fine whiskey. Ronnie has stopped counting after the fifth glass. “What if Tommy was wrong?”, he keeps thinking while he stares at the ceiling of his bedroom with wide, tired eyes, “What if Tommy has lied to me on purpose?”  
At three in the morning, he can’t take the fucking quiet and the ever-recurring thoughts anymore and gets up again. At first, he sits on the couch in the empty, silent parlour, but it reminds him of Teddy, so he turns a usually unused armchair towards a white wall and sits on it. He turns on the radio but the cheerfulness of the broadcasters and the pop songs seem eerily out of place. So Ronne sits in silence. And thus he can’t escape the nagging doubts.  
He tries to recall Teddy’s face, the moment he, Tommy, and some of Tommy’s boys had stormed the warehouse, guns up. And finding Teddy there had been proof enough for Ronnie – at least at that very moment. Now he was not quite so sure anymore. Teddy’s face swims before his eyes, but he can’t picture it in detail, it’s like there’s a veil in front of it. Had he looked like being caught in the act? Or had it just been a look of surprise? Ronnie swears. He shouldn’t have acted so quickly. They should have talked this through. Was it guilt, or was it surprise? It seems impossible to tell.  
More drinking. Sometimes he’s convinced that Tommy was right, that Teddy has been conspiring against them with Ada Shelby. Then again he is convinced that Teddy would’ve never done that, not to him. Sure, Teddy had been talking to Ada, but that was no proof of anything. Ronnie is confused, filled with remorse, with hatred, and with a variety of other emotions he doesn’t bother to name.  
In the back of his mind he knows that things are not going well with the Peaky Blinders, that he should be making plans right now, that he should try to outthink Tommy Shelby. Reggie would know what to do. Reggie would’ve already thought three steps ahead. For a split second, Ronnie is tempted, very tempted, to call his brother. But no: He will not come crawling and ask for help. He can get out of this by himself. Once this bloody pain in his chest goes away, he will get out of this by himself.  
He notices that his hands are shaking. Another glass of whiskey should help.  
\---  
Something cold touches his cheek. Does he lie on the floor? Ronnie wearily, briefly opens his eyes and grunts as the bright daylight sends flames of pain through his brain. All that whiskey might not have been the best idea.  
“Oi, you!”, a voice exclaims, and the cold thing touches his cheek again. Who the fuck wakes him so early?  
He grumbles and opens one eye, just enough to see who’s there, and pauses. “Wha’?”, he mumbles at the shadow crouching beside him.  
“Wake up!” It is a woman’s voice, and it is used to give orders by the sound of it.  
He can’t see enough, so he finally opens both eyes, blinking against the bright light. Ronnie has never seen her before. She has red curls and a hard face. What the heck does she want, and why does she point a gun with a silencer at Ronnie’s face? “You’re the Irish girl. O’Connor.” It’s not such a long shot, judging by her accent.  
She nods. “Clever you.”  
If she would just leave... “How did you get in ‘ere?”  
She shrugs. “I told them you were expecting me. No one asked questions. I would invest in better men, if I were you.”  
Ronnie frowns. He’s been asleep, and on the floor, too. In no state to meet anyone, let alone someone from another gang. Why hadn’t Teddy told her to fuck off and come back later? Realisation hits him like a brick wall: Teddy’s never going to tell anyone to fuck off ever again. “I lost...” He swallows, blinks, and tries to focus. As if the woman cares. “Wha’ are you doing here?”  
She tilts her head, sending her red curls to bob up and down. “What does it look like?” A small smile appears on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You killed Ada Shelby.” She pauses. “I am going to kill you.”  
Ronnie stares at her, very confused. “Bu’- I didn’t kill her!” Why would she think that? It was Tommy, Ada’s own brother, who’d killed her. He tries to recall if he’s left his gun in Canary Wharf, it might count as proof against him. He sure can’t feel the familiar weight in his shoulder holster. The woman leans over him, her face close to his. ‘She has blue eyes’, Ronnie notices, ‘not green ones. Irish girls with red hair should have green eyes.’  
“You could at least have the guts to admit it”, she hisses.  
He can feel the cold end of her gun at his temple. He wants to reply sharply, but then he looks into her blue eyes, and sees that they mirror his pain. “You loved ‘er”, he mumbles, his voice cracking.  
“Clever you”, she says again, voice dripping with sarcasm, before she presses the trigger.


End file.
